


Please, please, please me

by Hanatatami



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, But that's just how my fics works okay, Dom/sub, Handcuffs, Hardcore, Look they think a lot, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Ronan/Elijah, They are both ocs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:36:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanatatami/pseuds/Hanatatami
Summary: It’s truly scary how fast he got used to this, to how much he now seemed to enjoy it. But Elijah’s skin is so soft against his hands, his voice so full with want when he takes a handful of his dark, long hair, and pulls his head back he finds it too hard to go back.
Kudos: 13





	Please, please, please me

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I know you are not supposed to upload original content to here but this reads as a fanfic and I do what I want, so sue me. Jk I just enjoy writing porn and wanted more people to read.....
> 
> These two characters are a ship my friend RurryLombardi and I have of our OCs. Hers is Ronan who's tall and has a bit of a restless personality, he has dark skin and dreadlocks, and runs a drug ring. Elijah is mine, he's pale white, short and skinny, a selective mute who has way too many piercings and shoulder length black hair; he's an underground nurse for them delinquents with too much money.  
> Eli is a hardcore masochist and Ronan is first drawn to him because he's curious about it. They end up having a physical relationship and eventually straight up just date. Maybe I'll draw them properly together one day.
> 
> ANYWAY enjoy! Hope you like it. If not, at least it's very short.

It’s truly scary how fast he got used to it, how much he now seemed to enjoy it, this sort of sexual play. As crazily as he had lived both his life and his relationships, Ronan had to admit that this scenario had never crossed his mind until he met him. But Elijah’s skin is so soft against his hands, his breath so hot on his ear when Ronan squeezes with just enough pressure, his voice so full with want when he takes a handful of his dark, long hair and pulls his head back, that he finds it too hard to go back.

Ronan isn’t used to this kind of man, either. He likes to either be chased and desired, pick a target easy enough he knows won’t reject him, or playfully propose to people he’s sure will never take him seriously in the offer. Never before had he sought so seriously for someone, so unsure yet hopeful; never before put so much effort into someone so apparently far away from him. 

It was far from what he usually looked for, but he thinks that with Elijah it was difficult not to be entranced: the glint of silver right below his lower lip, the graceful fall of his hair on the back of his neck, the gentle curve that followed from his back to his waist. The keen tone of his voice he hardly got to hear outside the bedroom.

He’s so unexpectedly charming, this boy, his extravagant tastes and his silent mouth. Even now, both smelling of sex and sweat, he can sense the soft smell of tobacco and rubbing alcohol that always lingered on his hands, his fingers.

Ronan gives a languid lick to Elijah’s cock, warm and heavy and hard against his tongue. He pays special attention to the three pieces of jewelry on it, then forcefully pins Elijah’s hips down to the bed when he feels him try to move. The other replies with a strangled moan, and Ronan stops it by wrapping his hand around the base of Elijah’s cock with a bit too much strength for anyone but him.

His voice is thick and it sounds almost foreign to his own ears, “I told you not to move, didn’t I?”

Ronan gets a reply in nothing but a couple of broken gasps, so he tightens his grip even more.

“Answer me.”

Elijah buries his head in the pillows; he lets out the closest to a scream his soft voice allows him, “Yes–”

Ronan strokes him one, two, three times, and Elijah squirms under him, “Yes what?”

The other almost whimpers and speaks more than Ronan has heard him talk all day, using that begging, raw tone of voice that always drove Ronan crazy, “Yes, yes, you told me–  _ ah, _ not to move, I’m– I’m sorry–”

Ronan sees, feels Elijah’s leg muscles twitch under his hands; hears him muffle his whines and sees him hide his face behind the leather handcuffs as he fights his own body. He circles the head of the other’s cock with his lips, almost kisses it as a reward, and Elijah almost sobs with relief. 

“Good boy.”

No one had ever surrendered themselves to him like this. It’s a bizarre thing to want - he likes bossy people with an attitude, those who could keep up with his ridiculous demands with ones of their own - but now that he had tried it (the power, the control) it feels awfully difficult to let it go. Ronan looks down at the body laying under him, gentle and delicate and awfully pliant; he runs his hand up from his stomach to his chest and grabs his neck, containing the impulse of sucking it and biting it in an attempt to mark him and show the rest of the world he was his.

Because, God, how he wanted him to be his and only his. 

Elijah peers at him from behind his restraints, eyes clear and slightly teary- yet with the same intensity they have whenever he playfully grabs Ronan’s hand in public, whenever he pulls him into a dark alleyway to kiss him, whenever he submits and kneels in front of him, once they are alone. Ronan’s breathing is labored and uneven, his mind flooded by the desire to kiss him stupid and fuck him senseless, to make love to him until he can't think of anything but him and his body and his cock and his dark hands on his fair skin. 

He lowers himself so their faces are even, grabs Elijah’s handcuffs so he can move them over his head and out of the way. He pushes his thumb between the other’s lips and forces his jaw open in order to kiss him and, willing as always, Elijah complies. Ronan’s tongue feels the warmth of Elijah’s own and the smoothness of the piercing that rests under it; their kiss is messy and wet and full of teeth, and he thoroughly enjoys the sweet sounds that Elijah makes whenever Ronan presses his jaw open for better access. 

He moves to grab Elijah’s lower lip between his teeth and bite down, forcefully enough that the other can feel the pain he likes so much, kindly enough so he won’t actually hurt him. He gets a grateful hum in response, licks the top of the abused lip to congratulate his obedience.

Ronan pulls away for a second, presses his hand against his own already hard cock, barely hidden under his pants, and groans. He eases himself off of the piece of clothing, then his hand is immediately back at Elijah’s mouth. He only needs to give him a single look for the other to accept his fingers in his mouth, for him to lick them and wet them thoroughly.

Ronan pushes his dreadlocks out of his face, then busies himself by putting on a condom with his free hand. Elijah looks at him from under heavy-lidded eyes, hazy yet fiery, his tongue never once stopping around Ronan’s fingers. 

His impatience wins over and as soon as he can position himself between Elijah’s legs, Ronan pushes his fingers inside him. The other’s body tenses up as he thrashes his head against the pillow, and Ronan swears he can almost hear his name in the broken moans that come out from Elijah’s throat, sweet and pleading and almost like bliss. It feeds his lust like nothing else had before, and it makes his head feel fuzzy and drunk with heat.

He works his fingers slowly, in and out; curls his fingers up, spreads them. Every movement makes Elijah twitch, mewl. It swells his ego, and, for a second, he lets himself think that he is the only one that has made him react like this, the only one he trusts enough to give away his mind and body in this manner.

Ronan pulls away, and looks at Elijah. His black hair is sprawled over his cushions, limbs and body stretched under him, his almost white skin contrasting with Ronan's ridiculous red bedsheets and he's oh-so beautiful. His face is twisted in a mix of  _ yes _ and  _ no _ , lips swollen and cheeks deeply flushed. The pleasure of his fingers is not nearly enough, Ronan knows too well, so he gives him even less: Elijah groans in frustration, and Ronan carves his reactions in his head to the very last detail.

“ _ Ronan, _ ” He hears Elijah say, almost too weak and broken and breathless to be understood. He remains still under him, legs tense, body taut and static, “ _ Please- _ ”

Ronan’s brain mindlessly wonders why he doesn’t move and relieve himself - he’s way too used to greedy one-time lovers, those who use him to fill their needs and receive pleasure. If it was him in that position, he would probably ignore whatever the other’s intentions were in order to come like he wanted, when he wanted, the way he wanted. Then, it hits him - he feels blood rush to his face and his chest and his stomach and down, down, down, realisation hitting him like a wall of bricks: He doesn’t move because Ronan has told him not to, and as he told him numerous times but Ronan never really wanted to believe him– _ I want you, so I’ll do whatever you want me to do. _

He suddenly feels overwhelmed, his heart hammering on his throat, his mind and body heady with wanting. He glances at the boy under him, so lovely and selfless and obedient, and he lowers down to talk right to the other’s ear before he can help himself, taking out his fingers and thrusting his cock as deep inside him as he can–

“Eli–” Elijah gasps and throws his head back, Ronan nuzzles his neck as he mutters, “Eli, I love you.” He leaves a trail of kisses up his jaw, “I love you, I love you.”

He thrusts in and out as he speaks, Elijah tightening around him with every chant of those words– even with his hands bound together, the dark haired boy manages to put his arms around Rohan’s shoulders, bringing him down so their bodies are closer together.

Elijah mewls against his mouth, “ _ Ronan,” _ And his voice is so sweet and full of need Ronan almost loses what little composure he has left, “Oh, Ronan,  _ ah- _ ”

Ronan thrusts harder once, twice, then he keeps going; and he chases his orgasm after he makes sure he is hitting Elijah’s prostate with every single thrust of his hips– he feels his blood rushing to his ears and shivers burning through his veins, he hears Elijah panting right next to his ear and as soon as he feels himself close, he grabs the other’s cock in his hands in an attempt to make them come together.

The pleasure builds quickly inside him and he comes so hard it leaves his chest feeling hollow and his head buzzing with satisfaction, foolishly happy once he feels Elijah coming only seconds later.

Panting and barely able to breathe, Ronan lifts himself on his arms, looks down at the body under him. The other’s chest is heaving up and down, his eyes are shut and eyelashes wet, his hair is sticking to the sides of his face. Chest flushed bright pink and stomach shining with his own cum, he looks delightful; and Ronan feels stupidly proud of his work. He takes one last long look at him before he ventures down to unlock the chains that join both leather handcuffs together, and he takes a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“Eli–”

But as soon as he’s free, Elijah grabs the back of Ronan’s neck and brings him down with him, kisses him deeply and thoroughly and painfully kindly.

The look Elijah gives him after makes Ronan’s entire body shiver. 

“One more time.” he sounds raw and breathless and extremely alluring, “Please.”

Ronan feels the fire pooling down in his stomach again, and it feels terribly ironic how he can’t refuse him when he orders him around like this.


End file.
